Read Between the Lines
by Literature Rogue
Summary: The boy saw the comet and he felt as though his life had meaning. And when it went away, he waited his entire life for it to come back to him. My take on Lucas and the Comet. Oneshot.


**Lit: **My first One Tree Hill story. Long time watcher, first time writer…My take on the whole 'Comet' thing.

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own One Tree Hill or the characters. I am only responsible for their fictional corruption.

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_The boy saw the comet and he felt as though his life had meaning._

She was that girl. She was the head cheerleader, the bitch, the girl every boy wants but knows they can't have (unless they're the jock). She was the girl who was beautiful, and brave, and brilliant. From the first time he'd seen her, he knew she was on fire. She was as hot as the red dress she wore at that very first party. She was a comet, visible, but just out of his reach. He could see her, but he couldn't touch her or have her for his own. She was everyone's girl. But she was still his comet. He watched her from afar every day, even though she wasn't his.

He just knew. Even if she wasn't his, she was his comet.

"But one of these nights you're gonna realize it. I'm the guy for you, Brooke Davis. You'll see."

_And when it went away, he waited his entire life for it to come back to him_

So, when you tell a girl you love her, the scenario plays out in your head hundreds of times. Not one of those times showed her leaving him, staring blankly after her as she fled off to California for the summer. But she came back. She always came back, because she was Brooke and he was Lucas. And because he was Lucas, he screwed up. Again. After that, there was really no hope for them. It happened twice, and she certainly wasn't going to be vulnerable toward him again.

But after they graduated high school, and the entire group met up at the Rivercourt to leave their mark on Tree Hill, he realized something. She'd never really left him. All she ever wanted was for someone to fight for her. And he couldn't even do that. So when she kissed him on the cheek that night and told him she'd write, he didn't expect to receive any letters. She was his comet and she was going away.

He always knew she'd come back. He'd just have to wait.

She went to New York to promote her label, and he went to UNC as promised. And over the years, they lost touch. He wrote her, just like he'd promised he would. She never returned his letters. And after a while, he just stopped sending the letters. He never stopped writing them, because he needed to get it out of his system somehow. But if she wasn't going to respond to him, he wasn't going to send them. It hurt too much each time one of them came back with a 'Return to Sender' sticker on the front.

She'd moved without telling him.

"I keep that stuff as a reminder of how badly I screwed up things ... With you. To remind myself that if I ever got a second chance, I'd never let you go again."

_It was more than just a comet because of what it brought to his life: direction, beauty, meaning._

She was always there. Even after everything they'd been through, she was there when he needed her the most. She was even there when he thought he didn't need her, and he tried to push her away. But after the shooting, that was when he needed her the most. And even though he tried to handle things himself, the only way he ever felt truly content was when she was lying beside him in bed, and he could watch her steady breathing.

She'd turn to him and smile her dimpled smile, and he'd respond with his own grin before even realizing it. They complimented each other. She was the sunrise to his sunset. The star in his dark night. The cheery to his broody. When he looks back on it, he realizes that's why things didn't work out with Peyton. They were too alike. He needed someone to balance his broodiness, someone to counter his thoughtful silence. What he needed was some fun, and she always knew how to give it to him.

In fact, he had it tattooed on his bicep. Whenever he looks at that tattoo he thinks of her. And that's when he realizes that she's the one. Not because he made that basket, but because of all she's brought to his life. She was his direction when he was lost. She was his beauty in a sea of bland. She was all that mattered once, and he knows she still matters now. Because whenever he hears that Sheryl Crow song it's not Peyton he thinks about, it's Brooke.

The first cut really is the deepest.

"And because I've given exactly two of these embarrassing speeches in my entire life, and they've both been with you. I mean, that's gotta mean something right?"

_There were many who couldn't understand, and sometimes he walked among them_

It had been on purpose. He'd finally captured her, and yet he felt like he needed something more. From the beginning, there had always been a thing between a him and Peyton. It was never going to go away. He'd resigned himself to that fact. When the time came to choose, he chose her first. But when he looks back on it, he probably should have just chosen Peyton and saved them all a lot of trouble. But then, he wouldn't have had those memories with her. There's a Brooke box in his old bedroom at home, and it's twice the size of the knickknacks that remind him of Peyton.

He's got another Brooke box in his dorm room. It holds pictures of the two of them throughout their relationship. One of him with his arm around her (Peyton was somehow ripped from this picture). One of their kiss on the beach. One of them laughing, her hand over his mouth. Her letters fill this box, too. There's so much history there. Sometimes, when he gets writers' block, he digs out one of her letters. They make him smile and remember the good old days.

That's when he tiptoes back off to bed and puts his arms around her best friend. Peyton is his girlfriend, and he loves her for it. But the thing is, they're probably only together because together, they can help each other through it. Neither has heard from Brooke in over a year. Her best friend and the boy she loves have no idea where she is, or what she's doing. So they lean on each other, because that's the way it used to be. There will always be a Peyton and Lucas. But what Peyton doesn't realize is that there's always a Brooke and Lucas, too. There always was and there always will be.

"A part of me feels like ever since we got back together, you've just been waiting, waiting to push me away."

_But even in his darkest hours, he knew in his heart that someday it would return to him, and his world would be whole again_

So, when his book got signed, she was the only one he could think of to call, partially because he was in New York and partially because he still missed her. But mostly he called her because he was still upset about the whole marriage proposal thing and he needed someone to drink with. Brooke Davis had always been that person.

But when he walked through that door, it was like something had knocked him off his feet. They eased back into their old friendship like no time had passed. There was much consumption of alcohol and then, inevitably (as he always knew it would) the subject of Peyton had come up. So then there was the whole ring ordeal. And, in the moment, going around acting as if they were engaged just felt…right. They were talking about kids and houses and vacations…And in the back of his mind, all he could remember was the day he thought she _was_ pregnant, and how they were going to have to start a family at seventeen.

The way the answers came so easily from her, as if she'd thought about it before, amazed him. Her picture of their lives together was perfect, just like he'd imagined it would be. And in that one moment, he let himself imagine that it was Brooke that he'd proposed to, and they really were a happy engaged couple. Because if a simple picture of a fake future could make him feel so happy, then the real thing would have to be completely incredible.

But, like always, all good things have to come to an end. It was his fault, for kissing her. But it wasn't like she hadn't kissed him back. It was like all of those years between them had vanished, and they were seventeen again, in love without a care in the world. But she broke away, because of Peyton. It was always because of Peyton. And he let her go, because she wanted to leave. But he knew that even if he didn't remember any of this in the morning, she probably would. And that's what hurt the most.

"I love you, Brooke. I don't know how else to say it."

_And his belief in God and love and art would be re-awakened in his heart_

The night of his non-wedding, he's sitting there alone, watching the stars. He used to do this a lot when he was younger, but lately, things have gotten so complicated he almost wishes he could go back to high school. Almost, because the drama there was almost as intense as it is now. But back then, his mistakes weren't as life-altering.

Or were they?

As he brushes the clean blacktop with his fingers, he traces the letters of her name. He doesn't notice, but he's really deep in thought. About his life, about who he's supposed to love, about what he's supposed to do now. The Rivercourt used to be his home. But over the years, even the names they'd written here have faded. The new mayor had decided to re-pave the court, and their names and memories were buried with it.

He's only slightly surprised when a basketball rolls toward him from the darkness, because, after all, when you're left at the altar, someone's bound to come looking for you. He is surprised to see her, though, and he tilts his head slightly to one side in question. She's still wearing her dress and strands of hair are falling in her face, but she looks about as good as she did when she was seventeen. Maybe better. "Hey, Broody." He finds that her raspy voice still soothes him, even when he's lost and confused and, well, brooding.

"Hey," he returns, arching an eyebrow as she eases herself down next to him. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I wanted to make sure you didn't decide to drive away after your non-wedding and never come back." She pauses and glances around. He picks the basketball up from the ground and begins rotating it slowly in his hands. "I figured you might come here."

"It's where I belong. It's my world."

"It's where you _used_ to belong." He shoots her a sideways sort of glance, as if wondering why she remembered that for so long. She only offers him a dimpled smile. "Listen, Luke, I know this isn't how you pictured today. But everything's gonna be okay." She gets to her feet and tugs impatiently at his hand. "Come on, Lucas. You make this shot, and everything you've ever dreamed of will come true."

She pulls him up and he stands there in his tuxedo, in the same spot he stood in not so long ago. Looking at her, standing expectantly underneath the hoop, he feels like it was only yesterday. It's easier this time, because he's not blindfolded. But it's harder because she's there, waiting for him to put down the famous fade-away. He closes his eyes, because that's how it happened the first time. He lifts the ball into a shooting position and lets it go, grinning when he hears the familiar sound of the ball hitting the chain.

"What happened?"

"It went in. Just like I knew it would."

He opens his eyes and sees her standing underneath the basket, holding the ball. "So, am I still a part of this world?"

"You'll always be a part of my world, Brooke Davis."

_So do I get to be a part of this world?_

_The biggest part._

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**Lit: **I know, I know. 'But the Comet is obviously talking about Peyton's car!' I know that and you know that. It's obvious. I love Peyton, so it's fine. Really. But I was a Brooke/Lucas lover first, and a girl can dream, can't she? Haha. Alright, thanks for reading.


End file.
